Personal Description:
A 5'6" female is tougher then she looks. Even though she is called 'The Cynical Doctor', Naoko does not give the aura that she is an complete bitch. Instead, the Doctor is fairly pretty, with chestnut brown hair that goes past the middle of her back, clean and shiny, and people easily tell that she takes care of her body. Her eyes gorgeous, deep brown, adding to her stunning good looks that turn the heads of others. Her stares causes those to look away, though, because the cute lips lie about what is behind the looks.

Weighing 120 lbs, this female still demands respect in her posture. Her legs are long, while her arms are short. Her body is fairly shaped, with a small stomach and large hips and breasts. There are no scars or disgusting markings on her milky skin, seeing how she could heal herself before they could form. In many ways, Naoko manages to have a normal, healthy body and still look extraordinary, maybe even tricking some into thinking she is a model.

Clothing:
Clothing-wise, Naoko doesn't have much of a choice in the matter. Working at the Hospital in the village meant that always, a white coat is located in her closet. Underneath that, the attire changes, from the more formal with the skirts, revealing midriffs, and high heels, to the more laid back, shorts, t-shirts, and tennis shoes. Naoko doesn't care about name brands or how expensive things are; as long as it's comfortable and cheap. Naoka is a bargain looking kind of girl. Why buy something that costs a more then a space shuttle when you can get twenty good outfits somewhere else. Her closet might be full, but she hasn't wasted her whole savings account to look good.

However, she does spurge on things, like most girls. Her perfume is expensive, Japanese Cherry Blossom, and the necklace Naoko wears everyday is 24 karat gold with a sapphire in the middle. Naoko does have glasses, but she only wears them for reading, such as books and patients charts, but leaves them out when she has to go to the field. She hates feeling pushed back by lenses.

Personality:
Doctor Naoko is a different extreme in the medical field, and everything she tells people should be taken with a grain of salt and washed down with a shot of liquor. Most people that work with Naoko would say that she has a quick tongue and likes slashing people down for their flaws...which is probably the reason most people don't stand up to Naoko when she does things that would usually not be allowed for a doctor of the hospital, such as actively upsetting her patients, horrible beside manners, and unconventional tactics in surgery. Naoko has a thing for not following the social rules, sometimes disregarding her looks, and not wearing a white lab coat to keep patients from recognizing her as an actual doctor and bothering her with their problems. But don't take it the wrong way; Naoko is passionate about what she does, and will do whatever she needs to keep the patient alive, even if it is considered inhuman to the Hospital.

One thing is for sure; basically no one actually knows about Naoko's past unless she wants them to know, slipping in side comments about what has made her who she is today. The only person who does is her surgical nurse by the name of Fukuyama Airi, who is always paired with her in surgeries; Naoko has referred to her as her 'best friend' and has actually gone through the trouble of letting her in on who she is. Dating is also hard for the female; most males can't swallow her personality.

At home, Naoko shows a little more patience with her Mother, who is constantly bedridden, and attempt to keep her house clean and orderly for her. However, Naoko shows a great amount of anger when her Father is mentioned, and then completely change the conversation to avoid the topic.

Even though she works at the Hospital, she does get her time in on the battle field. When approached with an enemy, she show's no mercy, tearing them limb from limb with her stealth and skills, while at the same time, not trading that for the fact she could save herself. Many would say that Naoko acts no different from what she usually is.

Nindo:"Everybody lies."Bloodline: N/A

Archetype:Death Doctor
Archetypes: Taijutsu Specialist – Offensive Healer
Merit: +1 to Strength, +2 to Speed, +1 to Stamina, +1 to Intelligence, +1 to Reserves
Flaw:-2 to Reserves, -2 to Power -2 to Willpower
Combo Special: Twice per thread, the Death Doctor can physically touch a muscle and cause it to cramp painfully for one post.

My name is Horiuchi. First name, Naoko. I guess you could say that early life was pretty uneventful. I was born to two wealthy, successful people, one a very serious businessman with old money and another a fantastic shinobi and mother. I still don't quite understand how my father and mother met and actually became married, but that's not the point. The point is that they got married, had sexual intercourse, and then reproduced to create me.

My father, not surprisingly, was not around very much. He had a very large business to run, a company that extracted and sold a large amount of precious medals from various different places. But my mother was always there for me; she was an elite Jounin that tried to make sure she could take me to the academy and pick me up afterwards. It was no question that I would be a shinobi, like my mother. According to my father, I lacked the business ethics and knowledge to actually make a good amount of money that way. But that never really bothered me. He was always making side comments about me, and being a shinobi was more entertaining anyways.

I suppose you can say I did well in the academy. Mother Dearest was very invested in my progress, making sure I got my homework done, did my studying, trained hard. But she also made sure I had a pretty good childhood; I was allowed to go outside and play with all the other children, I was allowed to eat ice cream and reading fictional books wasn't a waste of time in her eyes. I know for a fact that because she was so lenient with me that I was willing to do what she wanted me to do.

My dad, however, was a completely different story. He was never there for me; ever. If my mom couldn't pick me up from the academy, or cook me dinner after a mission as a genin, I was on my own. And when he did speak to me, it was never a question or compliment, only an order. Well, of course I never followed what he said; why should I, when he never attempted to get to know me or take care of me? Well, that would always lead to a fight my mother would have to handle. Now that I think about it, she did a lot for me. I wish I could have understood that earlier.

Overall, my genin years were quiet. My team, consisting of three girls and a female genin, went on missions, helped weed peoples gardens, caught some bad guys. But we were really never in that much danger ever. No missing nins, no explosions, nothing ever went horribly wrong. We went on mission and came back basically in the same condition. At around 16 year old, I was recruited by the medical shinobi, which is pretty standard for them. I never saw my old teammates after that.

When I was promoted to chuunin, mostly in my line of work as an up-and-coming medic, I moved out of the house. I could no longer look at the man that fathered me without disgust and contempt. With my mother's approval, I moved into my own apartment, and I was happy. Freedom at last! I could do whatever I wanted, eat whatever I wanted, get a puppy if I wanted because my bastard of a father would never let me have one. For a while, things were pretty normal; went to sleep, got up, went to work, trained, studied, ate and showered. Repeat.

It was a this point where things got a bit weird for me.

I started to become friends with the wrong people. There were parties and drinking every night, sleeping all day. Drugs, sex, alcohol, that's all these people's lives consisted of. Everything was a joke to them. And even though I said I would never get pulled into their lifestyle, with the problems I had back at home with my parents, I easily did. I cannot remember a lot of nights, and I went to work a lot hungover. I died my hair bleach blonde because someone talked me into it, ended up with a bellybutton piercing and a tramp stamp tattoo. I would wake up some mornings in random guys beds. It's a small miracle in itself that I didn't end up with an STI or pregnant.

Things were getting pretty bad with my parents too. My mother was showing signs of losing control of her body, and when she started uncontrollably writhing around, my father finally caved in and took her to the hospital. Very quickly, she was diagnosed with something called Huntingdon's Disease, a neurodegenerative genetic disorder which causes her to slowly lose control of her muscle movements and would, eventually, be the cause of her early death. You would think the news of his wife's death sentence would have shocked my father into actually paying more time and attention to her. But actually, it did the opposite. Not wanting to deal with it, he hired a private nurse to take care of her, cleaning her up when she couldn't control her bowel movements and dealing with her writhing.

In the meantime, my father, god forbid, started to fool around and sleep with girls my age. He would bring 17 and 18 year olds into their home, have his way with them in what used to by mother's and his bed, while she had to sleep in another room. He said he was having issues sleeping in the same bed as her. But I saw through that.

Now I'm not one to believe in fairy tales, or religion, but I'd like to think karma exists. That if you're a bad person, soon your bad deeds will catch up, and you will rue the day you ever did such actions. As horrible as it sounds, my father had what was coming for him when he, for lack of better words, stuck his dick in a crazy. And when we were sitting at his funeral, him being in coffin because the wounds his crazy ex-lover inflicted upon him were horrific, I cried no tears. And I felt no shame for not feeling anything for the man whose genetics ran closely to mine. That was the ending he deserved.

Now, with the death of my Father, the issue of the care of my mother came up. We had found out that he had wasted a lot of his money on buying gifts for the girls he slept with, so my mother and I barely had enough money left from his will to pay for the pile of debt he left us. We had to sell their old house and get rid of the private nurse taking care of my mom. Yet I still had a large problem to deal with; my mother couldn't live alone.

That was a big turning point for me. I really had to clean up my life if I wanted to be the primary caretaker of my mother. I stopped drinking cold turkey, cut off all contact with the people that dragged me down the dark hole I had found myself stuck in. I let my hair grow back to it's original brown, removed the piercings, even went through the painful process of getting the tattoo removed. We moved into small but quaint house together and was able to retain a kind nurse from the hospital to take care of my mother when I couldn't be there.

I also got my shinobi training back on course. With my mother to help guide and support me, I trained and studied harder then I ever had before. Soon, I became one of the top offensive medics in the field, a wanted attribute to teams with it came to missions. And when I was promoted to Jounin after my countless saves on the battlefield with my general out-of-the-box thinking, my mother baked me a cake to celebrate. My favorite kind, chocolate. I hadn't had chocolate cake in forever at that point. I also hadn't had such support and love in a while as well. It was nice.

Originally, I was part of KSHD, or the Kusa Science and Health Department, when I became a chuunin. However, my... unorthodox ways caused quite a few problems, including a few complaints from coworkers, board reviews, and lawsuits. I didn't see why anything was a problem, because I managed to save their lives. What's a few wrong medication and painful procedures, as long as it saved them in the end? I guess I always had a wild side to me that didn't like to follow rules and I'd like to blame my father for that. Well, apparently, I caused a few issues. Because of the recent Kusakage changes and the killings of the daimyou, the original idea to kick me out completely was postponed and, after a while, lessened in the degree of punishment. That had worked in my favor, if I had to find the bright side of a dark room. I found myself being forced into the SAED as, god forbid, a team sensei. They said it was about 'learning to control my temperament' and to 'learn to connect to humans on an emotional level'. Well, they say you learn best with a broken arm or two...

Other Info:
-The one thing Naoko really wants in the world is a puppy
-Favorite flowers are Forget-Me-Not's
-Has an amazing green thumb
-Has been sober for 4 years
-Even though she most likely has Huntingdon's Disease, she refuses to get tested for it
-Deathly afraid of thunderstorms

Don't be combining stuff on me. You have the two categories in there, just split them out.

Quote:

white lab coat to keep patient from recognizing her

just the one guy? That lucky bastard.

Quote:

one more then one occasion

two whole occasions.

Odd

Well, it looks like Death Doctor has +1 to Reserves and -2 to reserves, which would leave you with -1 reserves. You have +1 reserves. It won't mess with your jutsu though.

Quote:

finally caved in at took her to the hospital.

Quote:

His excuse was he couldn't sleep when her when she had her attacks

Quote:

him being in a close coffin

So close

Quote:

for the man who's genetics ran closely to mine

whose

The story makes sense, but you tacked on the explanation of her transfer to the end. It seems like there should be an emotional reasoning for her misbehavior in her medic work. If she got in lots of trouble while she was tramp stamping around, that is one thing, and if she got in lots of trouble after her father died because she abandoned orthodoxy, that is another thing. Right now I cannot tell which is which.

There is also no mention of the political turmoil that hit the village a few months back, the quick succession of Kage. I don't need much, just a reflection of how she felt if she felt anything.